


Retribution

by standbygo



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF John, M/M, POV Lestrade, Past Sexual Abuse, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8916553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/standbygo/pseuds/standbygo
Summary: Victor Trevor shows up in Sherlock's life again. John takes care of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GorgeousDeduction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GorgeousDeduction/gifts).



> This is a kind of a sequel to Days Like Dominoes, but can be read on its own.
> 
> In DLD, I challenged readers to guess the song that Sherlock dances to, with the reward of a prompt. Some of the guesses were so good I offered a prompt anyway. This was GorgeousDeduction's: "I'd love to see you write another Victor encounter but this time with possessive John around (insert devious laughter here)."
> 
> Please do not redistribute my fanfiction on other archives or sites without my express permission. Thank you.

Lestrade was walking with John and Sherlock through the work area of New Scotland Yard, buzzing with phones, chatting officers, and protesting prisoners, when it happened.

Sherlock was talking a mile a minute about the latest case, gesturing with his hands, and Lestrade and John were half running to keep up, when a voice floated up through the rabble, sleek and smirking, “Hello Sherlock, darling.”

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. His head swivelled around to face the speaker, who was chained to Detective Inspector Nichol’s desk but smiling and casual as though he were in the middle of a Soho party. The man waved, his handcuffs jingling. “Help an old friend out, would you, dear?”

Lestrade watched, his brows knotting, as Sherlock’s face turned to stone.

“Come along, Lestrade,” Sherlock said at last. Lestrade had never heard his voice so cold, and that was saying something.

“Who was that?” John said. He looked like a dog with its hackles up.

“No one. No one of consequence.”

John put his hand on Sherlock’s arm and turned Sherlock to face him. Lestrade was always amazed at how those two had full conversations without saying a word. That had always been true, right from the beginning, but now the silent dialogue was intermixed with looks of tenderness and love, which made Lestrade glad all over again that they had figured things out.

After a moment Sherlock rolled his eyes, but even Lestrade could see it was pure bravado. “Fine. His name is Victor Trevor. I knew him a while back but I haven’t seen him in years, I’ve nothing to do with him anymore, he’s just-”

John’s finger shot out towards the grinning man. “That’s Victor? That’s the guy who-"

Sherlock turned away. “Leave it, John. Let’s go, Lestrade.”

Lestrade and Sherlock had taken not more than two steps away when there was a sudden tumult of noise and shouting behind them. Lestrade turned around in time to see John Watson airborne, leaping towards Trevor, and a look of shock and terror on Trevor’s face.

It took several officers to pull John off. Lestrade personally thought Trevor was lucky to have only a bloody lip and nose at the end of it.

“Police brutality!” Trevor was shouting messily, with a bubble of blood at his mouth.

“He’s not police,” Nichol said. “Now shut it.”

“My office, now!” Lestrade shouted at John and Sherlock. He grabbed John by the shoulders in a firm but not quite friendly grip.

They followed, John still looking furious and huffing air. Sherlock had a dazed look, but was staring at John as if he were a revelation.

**

Two hours later, Lestrade came and sat next to Nichols, facing Trevor.

“Someone got you cleaned up, then,” he said.

“Sort of,” Trevor snarled. “They let me go to the toilet. I want that guy charged.”

“Well, we’re going to talk about charges, but probably not what you think.”

“That guy attacked me unprovoked!”

“ _’That guy’_ is John Watson.”

“So?”

“Sherlock Holmes’ husband.”

“So?” Trevor said again, but his voice broke a little in the middle, as if he were remembering something.

“And the thing is, I’m not sure there were any witnesses to the assault.”

“What the - There were plenty of witnesses! This whole room saw it!”

“Well, lemme explain something. This whole room is indebted to Sherlock. He can be a right arsehole but he’s solved a lot of cases for us. And John’s made him less of an arsehole, so they’re pretty fond of _him_ for that.”

Trevor looked over at Nichols, whose face was stern and cold. Trevor swallowed and looked back to Lestrade.

Lestrade took Trevor’s file from Nichols and ran his finger down the charge sheet. “I’ve just had an interesting conversation with John and Sherlock in my office. That’s probably the most Sherlock’s ever opened up to me, ever. It wasn’t easy for him, but he got through it.”

Lestrade thought for a moment about how Sherlock’s face had been pale but his voice never shook as he spoke, and how John’s bruised and bloody hand had covered Sherlock’s.

“So, yes, I’m here to talk about charges, but not against John. We’re talking about Sherlock pressing charges against you. A bit overdue, but we’ll manage. I think this could be called a special exemption for the time limit laws.”

“But-”

“You’re not going to do well in custody, I think,” Nichols said.

Lestrade smiled, without humour. “And that’s _before_ I tell Sherlock’s brother.”

 

_End_

 

 


End file.
